


The Musician

by silhouettedsilver



Series: music of the sky [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Adoptive Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Kid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Kid TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Kid Wilbur Soot, Sky Gods - Freeform, Twins Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Wilbur Soot-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:48:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29346903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silhouettedsilver/pseuds/silhouettedsilver
Summary: "And if I refuse?” He asks."Well, it doesn't have to be you. That's the privilege of the eldest." They say flippantly, as if they are not talking about people's lives. "That's actually the best part. You can refuse all you want."Wilbur swallows again. His mouth is dry. He is strong and trained, but his sixteenth birthday was only a few days ago. One of his cloaks is still stained with the chocolate cake. He is still young, and his life could very well already be over."And what would happen then?" He asks. He tries to keep his voice even, but it cracks slightly and he curses in his head."Well, if that happens, I'd just have to move on to the next." The Sky God looks at Wilbur, a perfectly content smile on his face. "Your twin would be given the offer, and if he refuses then it falls on the youngest. He, of course, would not be given a choice."Or, how Wilbur ended up with the Sky Gods.
Series: music of the sky [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2155653
Comments: 13
Kudos: 193





	The Musician

He is alone when it happens and that really makes the difference.

After all, if he were his twin brother, they'd have never come. Everyone has heard of him--whether from whispers or from shouts--and his prowess in combats. If he were his younger brother, he’d yell and shout and make a mess of things and the only way  _ any _ being would be able to move him would be with enough noise that anyone within a hundred miles would here.

If he were his father then he could look them in the eyes and tell them no, and they'd likely listen. His father is the benevolent Emperor of this cold land, true, but the dark purple-black scaled wings that shine proudly on his back speak of the true fear those should have of him. He has a kind mind, with laughter-lines starting to form on his aging face, but he's not weak. He conquered this whole land when it was nothing but a barren wasteland and turned it into a superpower. He does not rule with fear, but that does not mean his enemies should not be fearful of him.

But he is not them. He is himself: the elder twin, the soft musician, the oldest son of the Winged Emperor. He is the one that will never inherit the empire and is completely okay with that. He asked for that to be true, after all. He knows his twin would be better suited, and he honestly does not want it. Why make strife where there does not have to be any?

He is alone when it happens, and he is Wilbur, and that is why things go wrong.

The Sky God in front of him looks almost unnervingly human. If Wilbur was not raised as he had been--raised on the stories of his father's adventures before he settled down--he might have thought the Sky God was just a simple intruder in his home.

They look at him with too-deep, too-blue eyes.

"Hello, small one."

He knows better than to not reply.

"Greetings, lord." He knows better than to say 'my lord'. Show no fealty to the Sky Gods, but respect. Show no loyalty, only acknowledgement. They will take whatever you allow them to, and you do not want them to take you if you can help it.

They smile at Wilbur with too-sharp, too-white teeth.

That is not a good sign. The only thing more dangerous than a calm Sky God is a happy one. Then again, one appearing before him in the first place was never a good sign to begin with.

That means that they Sky God is interested in you. That likely means you will never be seen from again.

Wilbur places his guitar aside and forces himself to stay calm. He does not ask any questions. His father is out. His brothers are out. He is alone.

The Sky God stays by the window that was not open before.

"I'm here to propose a deal of sort." The Sky God says, and even though it was what he had been expecting, it doesn't make his blood not freeze.

“Who are you?”

"Ah, playing ignorant, little one?" He tilts his head from side to side consideringly. The wind blows in from the open window. It's cold, but it's actually warm in regards to the arctic tundra he lives in. It still bites at any bits of skin that is exposed. 

"I am the Sky God Joa." They say after a moment. "What is your name, little one?"

They already know. Both of them know this. He knows better than to lie, but also better not to tell the whole truth.

"You may call me Will, Lord Joa."

Joa seems amused at his words. "Greetings, young Will." They say, dipping their head slightly as if out of respect. He knows better than to believe it, but returns the gesture. It would do no good to be disrespectful.

“What is this deal?” Wilbur asks, suddenly unable to take the silent tension.

"Straight to the point?" The Sky God laughs. "Should have figured. I admit, I would have thought you'd have more...eloquence than your brother, but no matter."

Wilbur resists the urge to snap. He’s always been protective of his twin, even if his skills and talents are known around the land. Technoblade’s still his brother. Yes, he is not the most social, but he  _ tries _ . He has his own troubles in his mind that makes it hard to talk and focus at times, and that is perfectly okay. Everyone has their troubles.

Wilbur does not snap at the Sky God though. He knows he is only saying this to try and bait him.

"Quieter than the younger one, fortunately. Don't know how you could stand his yammering. I've been watching you, young one, and I had half a thought to strike him down myself just to shut him up for a minute."

Technoblade is sixteen. Tommy is  _ eight. _

"Don't," Wilbur says, voice quiet but not soft. He’d kill for his twin, but he’ll  _ die _ for his younger brother. He's been through so much. His father just adopted him two years ago. The fact he is loud is a miracle after all the tragedy he had to face at a young age.

The Sky God smiles. "That is more like it.” They take a step further into the room, and Wilbur takes the opportunity to stand from where he had been sitting. He had not wanted to move earlier until they had.

"Now," They say. "How about we get down to business?" 

He plasters a fake smile onto his face and does not reply. There is no warmth in it.

"It's simple, really." They smile at him again, fierce but somehow still lighthearted. "I am approaching you first, as it is your right as the eldest of the Emperor's sons. See, me and my brethren are getting quite bored, and we don't like to be bored at all."

He knows where this is going. He steels himself. It's snowing outside. Wilbur wonders if there will be a storm. That would mean his twin will be home earlier than expected.

He hopes that he won't come. Wilbur doesn’t want to see how Technoblade will react. He doesn’t want to see Technoblade try and fight a Sky God on Wilbur’s behalf. If he dies, if Wilbur loses him--

He forces himself to concentrate.

"So, in honor of the anniversary of this great frozen Empire being formed, we've come up with a solution. Wilbur, we'd like to _ cordially  _ invite you to play in our games."

(He knew they knew his name.)

The Sky God games are not true games. They are suffering. They are tortue. They are meant to break you in more ways than one. No one returns. You either die in the games or become so corrupt you are invited among the ranks of the Sky Gods themselves.

“Why?” Wilbur asks, even though he already knows the answer.

The Sky God chuckles. "Why not?" They ask, spreading their arms. "This is the biggest empire in the land. It is ruled by the Winged Emperor, the Man Who Can Fly." They shake their head slightly. "And those are not even Philza Minecraft’s most famous titles. Who could provide us more entertainment than him...than his family?"

He swallows. Wilbur doesn’t want to show weakness, but...he’s sixteen. He can’t help it.

“And if I refuse?” He asks.

He is careful, on edge. When he asks, he focuses all the diplomacy training he had been given to keep his voice light and calm. His heart is pounding. His hands are sweating.

He cannot show weakness.

"Well, it doesn't  _ have _ to be you. That's the privilege of the eldest." They say flippantly, as if they are not talking about people's lives. "That's actually the best part. You can refuse all you want."

Wilbur swallows again. His mouth is dry. He is strong and trained, but his sixteenth birthday was only a few days ago. One of his cloaks is still stained with the chocolate cake. He is still young, and his life could very well already be over.

"And what would happen then?" He asks. He tries to keep his voice even, but it cracks slightly and he curses in his head.

"Well, if that happens, I'd just have to move on to the next." The Sky God looks at Wilbur, a perfectly content smile on his face. "Your twin would be given the offer, and if he refuses then it falls on the youngest. He, of course, would not be given a choice."

Technoblade wouldn't refuse. Never. Both the twins are protective of each other, yes, but that is incomparable to the protective nature both hold to the youngest. He is so small. Still so thin. He is just beginning to learn to be happy again after what happened with his birth parents. He does not need more strife.

Technoblade is also stronger. He is renowned for his skill with a blade. He has never lost a battle. Wilbur may be the musician, but in the middle of battle--even at sixteen--Technoblade  _ dances. _ Their father had not wanted him to learn so much combat so young, but it could not be helped. He was naturally called to fighting, and they both had been on their own before their father could reach them. 

His twin would be more likely to make it out of the Sky Gods' games alive. Wilbur would also be dooming him, his own flesh and blood. Wilbur knows Technoblade is not unbreakable. He’s stayed by his bedside some nights, helping him calm down when he awakes from horrible nightmares. His head does not function correctly, their father had told them once, but that is not a problem. It just means things have to be different for him. Wilbur loved him unconditionally and knew their minds were different for a long time, so of course he was willing to be there for him.

(Not that it stopped any ribbing they did. They were still brothers, after all. If Technoblade thought he could escape Wilbur’s teasing, he was wrong.)

"So, young one, little Wilbur of the empire covered in snow." The Sky God leans forwards. "What is your answer?"

It is not a question.

“I accept.”

The Sky God clucks, as if disappointed. They lean back.

"I cannot say that that was unexpected, but it is still unfortunate." They say, turning to look out the window. The sun still has a few hours before it dips, but it is dark. The snowfall has been increasing. 

Wilbur wonders, briefly, if this is the last time he will ever stand in his home.

"Your twin would have been more entertaining, but no worries. We can be creative." The Sky God continues. Wilbur looks at the wall of his room. There is a picture there. It is one of the few that hold his whole family without blur. They’re all so poor at sitting still that having even one is, frankly, a miracle.

Wilbur knows his brothers will be okay without him. His twin will be a strong emperor and the youngest will surely grow into a great man in whatever field he wishes. Tommy has the determination for it.

"Well then, Wilbur." The Sky God smiles. "Let me bring you home."

And just like that, the house is empty.

* * *

The snow has not even raised an inch when the hoofbeats of two horses can be heard.

That is fortunate for the house; all of the home’s windows are open and doors ajar. Every single thing that hides the house from the sky above has been unfastened.

The one who rides the horse alone, a figure with dark large wings and a green hat that protects blond hair from the icy storm, leaps off of the creature. The horse stills in steady obedience.

He had been riding in front, and at his movement the horse behind him is stopped by the larger of its two riders. He raises a hand, palm flat, but does not look back at those who were behind him. 

His eyes are transfixed on the house.

There is no music coming from it.

**Author's Note:**

> new hyperfixation whoops


End file.
